


One Less Demon In Hell

by DesertScribe



Category: Lucifer (TV), The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, Crossover, Gen, Post-Season 2 for The Good Place, Reunions, Sadly That Day Has Not Yet Arrived, Someday Maze Will Admit Her Feelings For Linda And Happy Makeouts Will Ensue, Written Between Lucifer episodes s3e21 and s3e22
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 01:57:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14486304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertScribe/pseuds/DesertScribe
Summary: "Do you mean to tell me that this guy is Michael as in the archangel Michael, leader of the heavenly armies and all that?"  And by 'all that' Linda meant 'the guy who the bible claims is going to kick your ass during the end of the world.'"Not exactly," Michael said at the exact same time that Lucifer exclaimed, "Heavens, no!"Lucifer scowled at Michael, who snapped his mouth shut and took a step backwards, at which point Lucifer continued, saying, "No, Linda, this boring little pencil pusher isn't one ofmybrothers, he's one of Maze's."Written for the Trope Bingo prompt: Reunions.





	One Less Demon In Hell

Linda Martin was once again having drinks with Lucifer in his penthouse, an activity which had been happening quite regularly in the days since learning that Chloe had accepted Marcus Pierce (aka Cain of biblical fame)'s marriage proposal. Sex was out of the question, of course, even though Lucifer was still her personal idea of sex on legs and he probably would have jumped at the chance if she suggested it. He had always jumped at the chance, but Linda had sworn to herself to keep things professional between them going forward, and that promise was all the more important now that Lucifer was even more emotionally vulnerable than usual. However, nothing was keeping her from being present for him as a friend, so there she was, sipping scotch that was nearly as old as she was and making idle small talk about safe non-personal subjects, when suddenly the elevator chimed and opened its doors to reveal two unexpected figures.

Linda shot to her feet and rushed forward, ridiculously expensive drink all but forgotten, and exclaimed, "Maze," before she could even think to stop herself.

"Look who I found hanging around outside of LAX," Mazikeen announced as she stalked out of the elevator and past Linda as if she weren't even there, pushing her companion, a tall, lean, whitehaired Caucasian looking man in glasses and a rumpled suit with a bowtie, ahead of her. Mazikeen kept one hand fisted around the back of the man's collar while using the other to twist one of his arms behind him in what must have been a very uncomfortable position while also gripping her Hell-forged blade with its point against his spine in a clear threat of what she would do to him if he tried to wriggle free. He looked like he had recently been beaten, while Mazikeen didn't have a hair out of place, which was not so surprising what with Maze being, well, Maze.

The man appeared unconcerned by the bruises blooming on his face or by having been taken prisoner by a knife-wielding woman in leather. He merely nodded and smiled politely at Linda as he passed her but remained silent. Then he turned and looked ahead of him. Upon seeing Lucifer, the man's whole demeanor changed. He tried to straighten to his full height and walk more proudly, but Maze's continued hold on him made that difficult. Then Maze let go and gave the man a hard shove, sending him stumbling forward so that he barely avoided falling on his face right at Lucifer's feet.

"He refused to tell me how he got here," Maze continued, already turning and stalking back towards the elevator as her former prisoner regained his balance, "so I figured I'd bring him over and make him your problem." She shot out a hand, caught the elevator doors before they had a chance to slide closed, and stepped inside, once again going right past Linda as if she weren't there. "If you can make him tell you whatever backdoor he used," she said, now glowering at Lucifer, "then you can give me what I want without having to worry your annoying little new-found conscience about the consequences of it."

"Maze," Linda said, "please, I just want you to talk to me."

"I don't want to talk," Maze said, meeting Linda's eyes briefly but then scowling and looking. At that point, whether she was angrier at Linda or at herself was anyone's guess.

"Then tell me what you do want," Linda begged. However, Maze was already jabbing the button to close the elevator doors and begin her descent, and Linda hesitated for a fraction of a second too long to be able to step into the elevator with her.

"I'm sorry it appears that you'll have to wait until later to have a proper reunion with Mazikeen, Linda," Lucifer said from his seat on the couch. "Still," he added cautiously as Linda, barely resisting the urge to curse and kick the elevator doors, sighed and turned around to face him again, "I guess that means you get to stay here and witness _our_ ," and here he gestured between himself and the whitehaired newcomer, "little reunion instead. I don't think I've seen good old Michael here face to face since some time back in the early Middle Ages, at least. Been doing anything interesting lately besides somehow finding your way here? No, of course you haven't."

"Wait," Linda said before the man, Michael apparently, had a chance to answer, because when Lucifer threw around time spans like centuries, he never did it as hyperbole. "Do you mean to tell me that this guy is Michael as in the archangel Michael, leader of the heavenly armies and all that?" And by 'all that' Linda meant 'the guy who the bible claims is going to kick your ass during the end of the world.' After that brief and unproductive encounter with Maze, Linda desperately wanted to go back to her seat and finish her drink and then quickly finish several more of equal or greater alcohol content. However, she had enough experience with Lucifer and his family to know that if some kind of throw-down between super strong celestial beings was about to kick off, then she would be better off staying on the sidelines near the exit. Michael looked less like a fighter and more like an aging bookish academic type or maybe a bartender, but then Maze had been a bartender too, and human appearances didn't seem to mean very much when it came to celestials anyway.

Both Lucifer and Michael looked amused but also somewhat offended by the question, but at least no one was throwing any punches or breaking out new and deadly divine relics yet.

"Not exactly," Michael said at the exact same time that Lucifer exclaimed, "Heavens, no!"

Lucifer scowled at Michael, who snapped his mouth shut and took a step backwards, at which point Lucifer continued, saying, "No, Linda, this boring little pencil pusher isn't one of _my_ brothers, he's one of Maze's." Lucifer probably meant that to sound reassuring, but the idea that they were dealing with one of Lucifer's demonic underlings possibly gone rogue instead of another angel possibly gone rogue was not very reassuring at all beyond the hope that there shouldn't be any sibling rivalry issues like there were between Lucifer and Amenadiel or between Lucifer and Uriel. "Now, Michael," Lucifer continued, seemingly oblivious to Linda's worry, "what have you been getting up to that brought you here?"

"Oh, you know me," Michael, said with an overly cheery tone of voice and a slightly forced smile, "just keeping busy with my design work and keeping out of the way."

"And you simply kept so far out of the way that you ended up topside?" Lucifer finally deigned to rise from his seat, bringing himself practically nose to nose with Michael, who looked less than happy with the proximity. Michael took another step back (he was going to risk backing into the piano if he kept up like that), but Lucifer just closed the distance between them again. And maybe Lucifer was not quite as oblivious to Linda's worry as she had thought, because now he had perfectly positioned himself between her and Michael. "I hadn't thought Hell was due to get _that_ crowded for another several millennia. Or do you expect me to believe that you got lost on your way to the supply closet for more paperclips?"

"I--"

"And don't lie to me, Michael," Lucifer warned, "because you know how much I hate that."

"You want the truth, sir? Fine. I created a new, completely unprecedented torture scenario," Michael said, now standing his ground looking his boss (former boss? Linda wasn't exactly sure how successful or permanent Lucifer's resignation from the position of Lord of Hell had been or whether any of the demons other than Maze even knew about it) in the eye almost defiantly. Then he stole the briefest of glances over Lucifer's shoulder to Linda, as if he cared what kind of reaction she might be having to all this. "It was revolutionary enough that I got voted into Upper Management. And now I'm working on a personal project," he concluded.

"And you didn't want to tell any of this to Maze?"

"I did tell her," Michael said, "but she didn't believe me and wouldn't give me the chance to prove it." He pulled open his suit jacket to reveal a small round dark metal disc attached to a colorful suspender. The design was different than the Pentacostal Coin that Lucifer used to carry around with him, but Linda suspected that it served a similar function. "See?"

"That's just like Maze, isn't it?" Lucifer laughed.

"Yeah, just like Mazikeen," Michael said, joining in Lucifer's laughter and once again glancing over at Linda for whatever reason, at which point Lucifer grabbed him by the throat and hoisted him into the air onehanded.

"You don't look at her, Michael," Lucifer growled, emphasizing the word 'her' by giving Michael an effortless shake. His eyes were no doubt blazing with hellfire, though Linda was at the wrong angle to see any of that. "You look at me, and if you don't start being more forthcoming, I'm going to take offense and leave you in a condition where you won't be in a fit state to look at anybody. What kind of personal project has a demon like you running free among living mortals? Speak quickly now, before I lose what tiny bit of patience I have left."

Michael did not kick or struggle against Lucifer's grip or fight for breath the way that a human would have, but he didn't look happy about the situation either. "I'm trying to get the laws of eternal judgement rewritten for greater lenience toward human souls," he said. He spoke quietly and seemed to do so for reasons beyond the fact that Lucifer was half-closing off his airway.

"Why?"

Michael shrugged as best he could while still being dangled in the air by his neck. "Because saving millions of souls from damnation is the right thing to do?"

"How very altruistic of you, Michael, and yet you don't sound particularly certain about your reasoning," Lucifer said. He drew Michael closer but did not quite let the demon's feet touch the ground. "So tell me," he ordered, "what is it that you really desire?"

Michael got that distant but intense look in his eyes that everyone always did when Lucifer asked them that question and said, "I want to help my human friends get into Heaven." A look of fear crossed his face as soon as the words left his mouth.

Lucifer scrutinized Michael for a few more seconds, or at least did a very good job of pretending to in order to make the demon sweat, before announcing his decision with a cheery, "Well I hope you have fun with that." He released his grip, allowing Michael to drop the final couple of inches back to the floor. For the second time in less than ten minutes, Michael staggered but managed to catch his balance before he fell.

"Really?" Michael asked, cautiously straightening his bowtie.

"Yes, really. I'm not going to go so far as to help you on this most likely futile crusade of yours. However, as long as you behave yourself, I won't hinder you, because if you do somehow manage to succeed then it will be a delightful 'up yours' to dear old Dad, which I'm always in favor of." Lucifer returned to his previous place on the couch, threw back the remains of his drink, and made a dismissive gesture with his hand, saying, "Now get out of here before I change my mind."

"Hot diggity! Thank you, sir," Michael said and, grinning a wide and surprisingly boyish grin, vanished on the spot as if he had never been there.

Linda finally left her place by the elevator, made her way back to her own seat, and finished her drink, all the while trying to process what she had just witnessed. Her mind kept circling back to one question which was probably unimportant in the grand scheme of things but also could not be ignored.

"What kind of demon unironically says, 'hot diggity'?"

"The kind who had a ten headed dog-spider for a pet when he was young," Lucifer said, pouring them both another round. Seeing Linda's questioning look, Lucifer elaborated, "The thing you need to know about dog-spiders is that the fewer heads they have, the friendlier they are, and any with fewer than thirty-seven heads is basically just an overgrown puppy that can drool on you from more than mouth at once."

"And what," Linda said, "does that mean for whatever Michael is trying to do now?"

"Not a clue," Lucifer said. "To the best of my knowledge, no one has ever attempted anything with such potentially far reaching metaphysical consequences since metaphysical consequences first became an issue, and that includes the time I helped Mom go establish her own universe." He settled back against the leather upholstery in an elegant semi-sprawl, looking quite a bit happier than he had before Maze's interruption. Then he raised his glass as if giving a toast to Michael and said, "I can't wait to see how it all turns out."


End file.
